Chapert 1: THE FIRST
STEP
No one ever truly knows what lays ahead on their journey; they just know to take the next step. Looking back over my journey – I always pause to find pleasure in the simple words of Lao Tzu. “The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.” My next step was to pull my passport out again after seven years on the shelf.
I knew that I was supposed to go to Ireland and Scotland this summer. On some level, the vision of the trip had been creeping into my awareness for some time. This wasn’t going to be like the trips I’d taken before though. I knew somehow that I would be changed from the experience on a much deeper level. Of course, there would be the wonderful aspects of cultural assimilation that always accompany an international adventure, along with culinary experiences, new sights, new sounds, and the ever fascinating conversations with strangers along the way. Yet, some part of me said a new element would be involved.
The planning process took on a level of ease I hadn’t anticipated. Typically arranging flights, time away, house sitters, etc. can be daunting, but as I was discovering in my life, things that are meant to be come about in their own wondrous way. We just need to get out of the way and let things come together. It all started with a simple phone call to an empath friend of mine. She is gifted with a keen sensitivity to energy around people and situations and highly tuned intuition. I asked a question that surprised even me. “When I go to Ireland, is there a group I should hook up with or travel with while I am there?” For most people, this wouldn’t be an odd question, but I was one to always travel alone and avoid arranged programs. I find myself to be more approachable on buses, trains, in restaurants, wherever, when I am by myself. This always leads to some interesting contacts with other travelers or locals. I also like the freedom of my own timetable.
Her response was to research a woman named Solara. She thought she had a website and was putting together some event in that part of the world during the time frame I would be traveling. She also warned me that work with Solara was not to be entered into lightly. This piqued my interest and I began researching immediately. At the same time, I began reading up on Ireland and Scotland and things that I might want to see while there. I started a list of places, made copies of maps, and red pen in hand, began plotting points of interest.
I planned on
creating a trip of about 4-5 weeks in length and with rough dates in mind began
contacting the airlines. I discovered that I finally had enough mileage accrued to actually go somewhere
and so focused on an itinerary through that airline that might work. I kept coming up against the same brick
wall. They could get me into Dublin in the time frame I needed, but couldn’t get me home until 7 weeks
later at the earliest. I went ahead and reserved this space hoping for a cancellation to open up another
seat somewhere and kept on with my research. The funny thing was that at the same time in my classes – I
teach breathing meditation classes – I was having students pay attention to higher guidance in their lives;
how to hear Spirit trying to nudge you in certain directions that will be in
your highest and best interest; and ultimately how to surrender to that voice. Here I was trying to control
something in my own life and not heeding the subtle voice of Spirit that was
trying to gently nudge me into accepting a 7-week holiday instead of the 4 weeks
I was going to allow myself.
When we get out of the way
and simply focus on the goal – “a trip to Ireland” – and let go of the process –
“the steps A, B, and C to get there” – things will manifest and come to fruition
in a more grand fashion than we could have dreamed of!!!
As this
realization subtly dawned on my conscious mind, I surrendered and found
gratitude. I had decided to join Solara’s event, which would be roughly 10 days, and the red dots on my map
highlighting points of interest were starting to add up. This meant that I would need a decent
amount of time on the isles. Magically, those red dots were also beginning to form a route structure
to follow. And so I kept my mind open and continued to read about Ireland and Scotland until the day of
departure. As I prepared to leave, I watched in awe as friends stepped forward graciously to take care of my
animals, home and plants, as my boss casually agreed to the time off, and as the
funds materialized out of nowhere to make the trip possible. It was a true lesson in accepting the
flow of grace and abundance into our lives. Everything is possible if we allow
it.
Part of Chapter 2: TIME
TO GO
The day of departure was finally at hand. Four flights and nearly 40 hours later I would be in Dublin. My itinerary was less than ideal – Casper, Wyoming to Denver to Philadelphia to Frankfurt, Germany and finally, after a five hour layover, on to Dublin. But, the ticket was free and I was eager to be off on a grand adventure. I knew there were direct flights from Philadelphia into Dublin, but they were booked solid. As I came to learn, Dublin is one of the busiest and most popular airports in Europe in early summer. I decided to keep in mind my belief that everything happens for a reason and so I must be on those flights for some higher purpose. Maybe I would be seated next to someone I was supposed to cross paths with or avoid lengthy delays on broken down planes or… the possibilities were endless. Each flight did take off exactly on time (a first in my experience) and I had no security hassles (I am almost always the one selected at the door for another security check for some reason). Debarking in Philadelphia, though, a little voice in the back of my mind kept creeping in, saying “Why don’t you just ask at the gate if there are any seats on the direct Dublin flight?” Dilly-dallying along, working my way slowly to the gate pondering this course of action, I finally resolved that “No, I am booked on the Frankfurt flight for a reason, so just go check in at the gate.”
Divinely timed, as I approached the counter to check in at the gate, the attendants were making an announcement that the Frankfurt flight was oversold and they were requesting volunteers to be rerouted through Paris. I handed the woman my ticket with no expectations, totally open to any outcome, and gently offered “If you can get me on the direct Dublin flight instead of through Paris, you can bump me.” The Dublin flight was also oversold by 14 seats. The attendant kept looking at the computer screen and back to her supervisor standing behind her. “Can I do this?” she would ask him. Turning back to me, “Did you check any bags?” “No, I’ve only got a carry-on.” “She’s perfect.” with another glance to her supervisor. “Can I do this?”
Somehow a space was created on that flight. So, I got to leave a mere 10 minutes later, avoid a 5-hour layover in Frankfurt, and arrive in Dublin at 8:00 a.m. instead of 4:00 in the afternoon. The real kicker, though… they paid me $400 U.S. for doing so!! Now that’s allowing abundance in your life. I called my dad before takeoff to let him know of the itinerary changes and had to laugh as I said, “Well, I must have the luck of the Irish with me already!”
Part of Chapter 4:
MOVING ON
The stone circle in Kenmare is considered one of the druid stone circles. I had read about people communicating
with stones or feeling their energies. My meditation practice had led me into some very mystical experiences and
I was intrigued to see what experiences I might have by visiting some of the
many circles scattered throughout Ireland and Scotland. This particular one for some reason had
caught my attention in my research and so here I was, ready to sense something,
but not really sure where to begin or what to expect. I only knew that my heart and mind were
wide open.
There are 16 stones there: one in the center and 15 around the circumference with one open space. They are evenly spaced with 4 to each quarter circle like a clock with 16 hours. I started by standing at the open space, which I considered to be the entrance, and asked permission to enter. This was granted and as I moved into the circle, I asked what would be the most appropriate action to proceed with. I was instructed to circle the center stone four times. As I allowed my footsteps to be guided, I found myself walking in a spiral to the center and spiraling back out– one turn to go in, two turns to go out again, one turn to go in again, which made four. It felt like the spiral of oneness moving in and the spiral of duality moving out. As I stood at the center stone, I felt complete stillness and just meditated there for a bit. I then was led to do all six mudras (hand gestures) that I had learned in Dingle. This was very powerful as I finished the sixth mudra. I felt a strong surge of energy through both my being and the center stone. Then I circled back out. Once again it felt right to take two full circles to spiral out. That intuitive inner voice I was hearing then told me to complete the circle by becoming the 16th stone in the empty space at the entrance. As I became the stone and closed the circle, four druid priests came in from each of the non-cardinal directions (NE, NW, SE, SW) walking straight through the stones to the center. They performed some kind of ritual at the center, circled and retreated by the four cardinal directions (N, S, E, W), one of them walking straight through me.
At this point, a family of tourists came up to the site, so I slowly got up and took a few minutes to take some photographs. There had been a regular flow of people before I started and there were a few more filtering in now – how had I been allowed twenty minutes or more of no interruption in this place? After a short time, there was only one other gal there and she seemed to be communicating with the stones as well. I watched, fiddling with my camera and my pack, as she made her way to each stone around the circle. She would lay her hands on them or press her body against them and then just be still. Knowing what she was doing, I once again followed that little voice within and made my way back to the circle. I sat again and then laid face down in the entry point, closing the circle for her. I could still feel the presence of the priests close by and for the first time felt a heartbeat deep within the circle as if something had been awakened. As I opened my eyes and sat up, four ravens were cavorting around in the sky just beyond the circle. As they headed off to the horizon, I felt strongly that these were indeed the four priests shapeshifted and their presence vacated.
This was obviously a powerful meditation and a completely new experience for me. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it all. I had been drawn to that place as if led by some higher guidance to find it. I felt that somehow it was connected to the experiences that I had had in Dingle over the last week. I also felt as if I had been called there because I was open to the experience to facilitate both an awakening and a release on some level. Part of me felt crazy, part of me felt more alive than ever before and part of me knew that EVERYTHING was happening exactly as it was supposed to be.
I also knew I was supposed to connect with this woman who was still interacting with the stones, and so waited patiently, striking up a conversation when the moment was right. I found out that she was also American and had been part of a group working with stone circles in Scotland. She ended up in Kenmare in a very random way for a one-day project, not knowing the circle was here. With only a short break from her project, she had discovered the circle and felt compelled to come see it. She too had felt drawn to speak to me and thus we were able to share our experiences and learn from each other. As it turned out, she gave me the name of a gal she insisted I look up when I get to Iona (Scotland). Little did I know at the time how important that contact would be to facilitate my healing processes there!! There are no accidents!!
I had come to
believe in the synchronicity of the universe over the past decade; everything
that happens and everyone that you come in contact with is for a reason. I suddenly found myself falling into a
constant flow of it as I learned how to surrender and “go with the flow”. As I stepped outside of myself and
looked back over the timing of the whole day and how perfect everything had
been, I realized that part of its success had lay in my relinquishing total
control and allowing things to just happen as they would. Throw the deck high and see where the
cards fall. I smiled and knew with perfect certainty that my efforts to hitchhike out towards Skellig Michael would
be rewarded.
Part of Chapter 5: BEING A TOURIST
I think the oddest lift I received on the trip was in this section. The woman who picked me up initially felt badly that she wasn’t going any further than her small village. Consequently, she inquired with the owner of the grocery store she needed to stop in at and arranged a lift with the bread truck that would be coming through in the next half hour. When he arrived, he had no objections to a passenger and so I found myself rumbling along all the back roads as he did his deliveries in the front seat of the local bread truck. How many travelers can claim that experience?
Part of Chapter 6: THE ARAN ISLANDS
The great gift in these situations is the ability to let go of it as you walk
out the door. Carrying it with me would only ruin the potential great day ahead. Indeed, releasing this and once again
allowing myself to “fall into the flow” manifested a shower of blessings that
day. It was Sunday and I was taking a bus all the way across the island to Belfast. From there I planned on working my way
towards Larne and the ferry terminal to Scotland. I had no idea how far I would get that
day and it didn’t really matter. I would be exactly where I was supposed to be.
The bus route took us from Galway to Sligo across the border into Northern Ireland to Enniskellen and on to Belfast. The countryside was pretty and the ride itself uneventful. The Sligo bus station, though, where I had to transfer, held an interesting twist. Tourists often stand out in a crowd and migrate toward each other. I was not surprised when the only other woman, obviously American, traveling with only a small pack like myself, approached me. We struck up a conversation within which she shared with me her current plight. The bus we would both be getting on would cross into Northern Ireland, where the Sterling Pound is used. The ticket, however, because we were currently in the land of the Euro, required Euro to be purchased. Her quandary: she had heaps of Sterling Pounds, only 5 Euro, and the ticket to her destination required about10 Euro. Could I possibly help out?
Naturally, I agreed to give her whatever she needed and make sure we were both on the bus. It hadn’t dawned on me until we were well into the journey, that I had no Sterling Pounds on me and was arriving at 5:30 p.m. on a Sunday. She happily agreed to exchange Pounds for American Dollars that she could still use and so we both were blessed by heeding our intuition and allowing providence to step in.
Providence seemed to stick with me all day. As we descended upon Belfast, my mind wandered to lodging for the night. I was not very excited to sort something out in a big city. I have never been fond of big cities and even though there is a great deal of culture to experience in Belfast, it was not on my priority list for this trip. Upon arriving at the bus terminal, I discovered that there were no information booths open on a Sunday evening. The only soul in the building was the bus ticket window operator and so I approached him. Were there any buses to Larne this evening? Did he have any information about the ferry schedules out of Belfast or Larne? No and no. BUT, with a gentle smile, “there might be a train to Larne this evening. Just wander over to the other end of the building where the train station is and inquire.”
Wasting no time, thankfully, I took his suggestion and as I reached the ticket man at the train station was informed that indeed the train leaving for Larne was directly in front of me and would depart in exactly 3 minutes. Glory be that I had Sterling Pounds on me with which to purchase the ticket (he didn’t take credit cards). So, I made the instantaneous choice, feeling like everything lined up too perfectly to NOT get on that train, to hop aboard and head to Larne. It was a pretty ride up the coast once we got out of Belfast and there were a few local teens that provided some entertainment. They were curious about me, where I was from, did I like Ireland, what made me come here, what was Wyoming like… it made the time go quickly. It was a short hour or so trip and nearing Larne, I started thinking about accommodation for the night once again. I inquired of the boys about hostels or B&B’s in the area, but as they would never need to use one, they really had no idea what was available.
Sure that something would work out, as it always did, I resumed enjoying the view and watched for Larne station. Just outside of Larne, the elderly couple seated in front of me started gathering their things and as the woman rose, she turned to me. Looking up into the most gentle face, I heard her ask if I wouldn’t like to come and stay in their spare bedroom. Apparently, she had overheard my conversation with the boys and felt inspired to assist. It felt right and so I happily grabbed my pack and followed them off the train. They were the loveliest people and enjoyed traveling a great deal themselves. I remember the date, June 6th, because after she insisted on fixing me scrambled eggs, toast and tea, we sat in the living room and watched a D-Day program. It was also my mother’s birthday. The living room took me back to memories of my grandparents (on my mother’s side). There were paintings of Hopi Kachina Dolls, similar to the ones my grandfather used to paint. It seemed an odd collection for an Irish home. Even the layout with the fireplace seemed oddly familiar. It was all too surreal at the end of a long day and as I retired into my own lovely bedroom with private bath, I allowed myself to revel in the princess treatment the universe had provided. After the previous night in Galway, I had been determined to treat myself to a bed and breakfast, but this better yet. I have to keep reminding myself to just set my intention, step out of the way and allow the universe to provide. It makes life so simple and so abundant!!
We were up early the next day. This dear woman, the night before, had helped me call and reserve a seat on the 7:40 a.m. ferry. She also insisted on making me a light breakfast and driving me to the terminal. I had to be there one hour early and so this meant leaving her house by 6:30 a.m. I felt it was too much to ask after all they had done for me and was happy to call a taxi, but they insisted and so I found myself at the terminal, ready to venture over to Scotland. I never even got their last name or address to send a note of thanks. There are truly angels in disguise all over the planet.
Part of Chapter 8: THE WEST HIGHLAND WAY
I knew that coming to Scotland was part of some soul retrieval work that I needed to go through. As I have stated before, I didn’t really know what that meant or how it would manifest, but was soon to find out. I had discovered that the territory I was walking in had belonged to the Campbell clan. Oddly enough, these were ancient ancestors on my paternal grandmother’s side. This wasn’t an association to be bragged about around Scotland, as they were a treacherous, powerful people in their time. Walking in the shadow of Ben Lomond, the terrain all of a sudden began to feel very familiar. I stopped on the trail and took stock of the area around me, sensing on some level old trails higher up, now unused, hiding places and the feeling that this had been my refuge. In my meditations, I often get strong visuals and that came in next. I saw myself as a man fleeing. I was being chased and watched myself fall as a hatchet blade of sorts entered my back just to the right of my spine. It almost took my breath away as I stood soaking up the blocks of information that were coming into my psyche. In an instant, I knew that somehow I had been linked to Rob Roy MacGregor and his band, although I was a Campbell by birth. I was neither noble nor honest, definitely not a man of moral character. And because I had died so violently, a piece of my energy field had been trapped here. My propensity to lung illness throughout this lifetime was somehow linked to this missing piece of energy and would now be healed.
The pieces of
information came tumbling in, cascading down as if they had been locked up for
centuries in a cupboard that had just been opened. My mind reeled and my being became
totally still. I realized that I felt more whole than I ever had in my life. The cumulative events in my life had
somehow led me to this place and another piece of the puzzle had come forth. And then I laughed with the
realization that this had been the reason for my soul’s desire to walk the West
Highland Way. Some deep part of me had been drawn here… for this remembering. I had had pieces of cellular
memory of other lifetimes come in before, but never like this. What a great
gift. And so I walked on, changed forever by these shores of Loch Lomond. There was a new lightness to my being, as well as a sense of
completion. Neither the rain nor the long miles could dampen my spirit. I joyfully stopped to photograph some wild goats near the end of the lake
and as the trail climbed up over the last hill with a view of the lake, I sent a
silent thank you on the wind back in the direction I had come.
Part of Chapter 10: NEXT STOP: IONA
I had been there only a few hours and yet, it eerily felt like home. I knew something deep in my past had called me back here. I had seen aspects of a life in the monastery here in meditations the previous winter, but had only scattered bits and pieces. I remember distinctly seeing myself as a monk sitting in an old stone building that no longer had a roof and walking out beyond it to a graveyard and looking at the sea. Already walking around the lanes, I could feel the cellular memory of my time here waking up. As I walked along the shoreline, I realized I was walking hunched over, with my palms clasped behind my back, deep in contemplation as I might have been centuries before in my hooded monk’s robe. I sensed the simplicity and joy that my life had carried there. I was very excited to see what would come up over the next couple of days. First, though, the simple pleasure of a real bath; something I hadn’t found since I had left home.
The next morning, I started with an early morning walk to the Abbey grounds. The scene of my meditation last winter turned out to have taken place in St. Oran’s Chapel (now rebuilt) and the Graveyard of Kings. Most of the slab stones (bas relief grave coverings) that I recognized were either inside the Chapel, the Museum or the Abbey… or destroyed from centuries of weather. One particular stone with a sword on it was hung inside St. Oran’s and I felt compelled to put my hand against it. As I held my hand there, I felt almost faint at the energy that pulsed into the room. Very little conscious information came with this, but I felt that I had known this soul. There was peace, yet a great deal of sadness there for me when this soul had passed. It was almost as if I had known the order was coming to an end and our way of life was dying out. I had a strong visual of buildings crumbling around me. For the first time, I also realized I had memories going even further back in this place as a druid priest well before the time of St. Columba. When he arrived in 563 A.D., he wiped any remaining nature worship still in place on the island. The realization dawned on me, that I had come back here as a monk in order to understand this religion that had taken over.
So much had happened already, and this was all before breakfast!...
...On the walk back, my friend had told me about an old druid “Hermit’s Cell”, the relic of an old stone hut that still held quite significant energy. She hesitated to let me wander off to find it, as it was rather difficult if you didn’t know the way and could take hours and hours of searching. I felt sure that I would find it and acknowledged that if, indeed, I was supposed to experience it, I would be led straight to it. And so I was.
I took off my shoes to feel the earth and asked permission to enter. The remnants of the walls were only maybe a foot or so high and made the circumference of a circle roughly 10 feet across with a small entryway at the south side. I was led to do the six mudras from the event in Dingle and then to spiral into the center, whereon I knelt down. As I walked, I sensed a mandala type structure energetically in the center and was led to lay face down and stretch my arms out to either side. This formed the equilateral sides of the cross of the mandala (much like St. Brigid’s cross) and I felt another extension of equal length stretching through my center from back to front piercing the ground and the sky. I felt as though this was the center of a sphere of energy and the words “As above, so below” came into my mind. This, a voice was telling me is how we can keep balance in our lives. Be conscious of the energy field you are in equally above the earth, as below it and going out in all directions.
I don’t know how long I actually laid there, face down in the grass, soaking up this energy and this message. At some point, I must have sensed movement outside of myself, and so got up and worked my way back out of the circle. There were hikers higher up on the ridge and I could only think what must have crossed their minds as they wandered past this woman face down on the grass. I laughed and shrugged, knowing I didn’t really care and made my way up around the rocks in front of the Hermit Cell in search of the old altar to the sun that was not on the map, but that my friend had told me about. I found a pile of rocks in a square, but was drawn to a couple of large stones that seemed more like standing stones outside of these. One in particular seemed to be drawing me to itself, and so I went over to hug it and listen to it. What joy and lightness it held. It seemed to be saying, “I’m the center point, look at the larger circle.” Indeed, there was a much, much larger circle that I would have never seen made up of both natural and placed stone to create the circle. It was like a gigantic medicine wheel back home in the Native American lands.
Part of Chapter 12: DONEGAL TO DUBLIN
(This piece covers the experiences at the Hill of Tara)
As I said, I had arrived a couple of hours early and so had time to browse the gift shops and eat a bowl of soup. As I did so, a sort of anticipation started building within me that surprised me. I knew on a deep level that this was going to be a powerful and profound experience, yet I had no idea what to expect. I thus tried to keep my mind in a place of no expectations whatsoever. It was really the best mindset to be in, because I really couldn’t have prepared for what was about to unfold. At the end of the day, there were really no words for the experience and a strong desire not to even try and record any of it, as it was so sacred.
Right around 2:30 p.m., I headed out to the parking lot and right on schedule a small car fitting the description I had been emailed drove up. A middle-aged gentleman with a Cheshire cat grin emerged from the car. If there were ever a man that could be described as a leprechaun, he would be it. There was an instant familiarity between us and I allowed him to lead the way. Walking slowly, side by side, he felt it would be appropriate to first meander up to the place of the ancestors and acknowledge them before we went anywhere else. I agreed and as we walked, the conversation turned to more worldly questions about each other. We strode slowly up the hill, engrossed in each other. Not realizing where exactly we were heading or going to be stopping first, I was caught off guard when my mind suddenly went blank and the conversation ceased. I was in the presence of a different energy and it overwhelmed me.
John (as I’ll call him for ease of storytelling) smiled, acknowledging my sensitivity to the energies and moving more slowly turned his body in the direction of a cairn directly in front of us. As we approached, I felt the presence of a king and his lady standing directly in front of me, greeting me, almost as if they had been expecting me. There also seemed to be a young girl sheepishly smiling from behind them. I bowed respectfully and acknowledged them. John filled me in later that my impressions were right on; those three souls had been buried there and he communicated with them regularly. It was very appropriate that we had started our journey here. They had been expecting me and word was traveling quickly across the grounds of my arrival.
We continued to walk around the grounds, simply feeling and sharing, slowly working our way to the west side of the hill where it slopes gently into stands of trees. I didn’t have a specific direction that I was heading, but felt myself being drawn to a particular stand of trees. When I reached a magnificent old tree, I stopped. John explained that this tree was a guardian and to follow my heart into whatever experience was there for me. He sat under this giant tree and waited. I opened myself to this beautiful guardian and asked for direction. Feeling drawn beyond him down a small lane of young trees on either side of an invisible pathway, I reached two very old trees standing side by side. For some reason, I felt like I was supposed to walk forward directly between them and just stand.
As I closed my eyes and went into a sort of meditation, I realized that something tremendous was happening. I could no longer feel the ground underneath me, or the weight of my body. It was as if I was suspended between these two trees and surging with energy coming straight down from the heavens and reaching deep into the earth below. I was pure light and oneness. I don’t have any idea how long I “hung” there. It must have been 10 or 15 minutes, but felt like a timeless eternity. It was one of the most beautiful exchanges I had ever experienced and what John later called a “transmission point between the realms”. I had been drawn straight to it, to his amusement and joy, and been able to step through the veil. This was a powerful place indeed.
From there we wandered up to one of the most well known aspects of Tara, the Fairy Tree. We were blessed to be the only two present there for about 30 minutes. All I can say, as experiences with the fairy realms can never be shared, is that there was an exchange of profound gifts, including a direct transmission into my heart from the heart of the tree. It turned out to be the most memorable event of the entire trip, which says a great deal, and one that shifted something in the most subtle levels of my being. It was incredulous to me how much was happening in a short time span.
A small piece that I am able to share involved both John and I. After our first exchange with the energies there, we both sat quietly, kneeling with our eyes still closed softly as if at an altar. John finally spoke very gently, saying, “You’ve offered them a great gift of yourself and now they would like to offer a gift to you. We are to dance.” I felt something stir deep within my heart, knowing how perfect and how right this was. We took off our shoes, connecting with the grass and the damp earth under our feet. Unaware now (and uncaring) as to whether there were any other people in the area, we stepped apart and faced each other. With eyes half closed, stepping between realms, we both heard the music begin and started a slow, rhythmic series of steps. It was the most beautifully choreographed, spontaneous flow of motion; almost a cross between a medieval ballroom sequence and a starlit druid ceremony that came straight through the heart. Circling towards and then around each other, the movements were amazingly perfectly synchronized, even with changes in speed and direction. Simultaneously, we felt the music slow and finally cease, bringing us into the center of the circle we had just danced, kneeling on one knee, shoulder to shoulder, fingertips touching as lightly as feathers. When the spell finally broke, we both lay on our bellies facing the tree and a deep belly laugh came up out of my being. It was certainly like nothing I had ever experienced before and yet, on some level, I felt as though I had. John had been a willing partner, able to step in and embody an energy from some other realm, in order for me to connect with the gift I was being offered.
Not sure how much more my body and being could process, we moved to the last area as yet unexplored. We sat at the home of the Goddess and simply grounded ourselves, then moved on a short ways further to the Grainne Mound, where the priestesses practiced rituals and ceremony centuries, even millennia before. Chants and songs started to come through both of us, as if we were hearing their ritual and participating. We knelt side-by-side and then as if both on cue shifted so that we were face to face. As I felt the ceremony draw to a close, I became aware of a gigantic diamond-shaped crystal rising out of the center of the mound holding an immense amount of energy for the entire region. If only every visitor to this place could experience what I had. For some reason, I had been gifted and would be forever grateful.
I realized how few open themselves up to such experiences as we walked back through the parking lot and passed a tour bus. One of the passengers, recognizing me as an American, stopped me to ask a few questions about the area and was surprised at the mystical subtleties I hinted to in my answers. He had apparently seen the whole of the site and felt nothing special or different. How terribly sad… but obviously appropriate for his current journey. Maybe his next visit will be different. For me, the last 3½ hours had changed my life. I felt a deep need to stay overnight in the area, as close as possible to the energies, and allow the assimilation process some time.
John and I wrapped up the afternoon over a cup of tea and then parted ways, not sure if our paths would cross again. I know my experience at Tara would have been nothing close to what it was without his participation. What sacred contract had we made to be in this place together at this point in my journey? My mind reeled on the realities of the greater picture of our lives and then joyfully surrendered it all and stepped back into the moment. With the long embrace of kindred spirits, we said goodbye and I hoisted my pack once again to walk down the lane, hoping the only B&B for 20 miles had a room.
Unbelievably, I was the only guest in the B&B that night. The woman who owned it was well aware of the deeper energies that run through Tara and smiled knowingly at my need to stay overnight. I left my belongings on the bed and headed back out to the hill before sunset. I ended up spending about 2 more hours, forgetting even about eating dinner, and revisiting the places we had been to together. I had no trouble finding each one and spent an especially long time just lying on the grass near the Fairy Tree. There were still major transmissions of energy going through me. I was processing incredible amounts of energy, which with the continuous ringing in the ears and “ungrounded” feeling, was finally making me crave sleep. I knew if I could just lay back on a pillow I would sleep and sleep and sleep; that deep, dreamless sleep of renewal.
Indeed, I did sleep deeply and woke to a beautiful day perfectly refreshed. After a lovely home cooked breakfast, I went back out to the hill for about another 2 hours or so. I headed up the hill this time with the intention of repeating the circuit again and instead was called to reverse my path, thus being able to finish exchanges with each area and say goodbye. This would complete the process where it had begun, with the ancestors. So, I headed first in the direction of the priestesses’ mound and felt them calling as 2 ravens led the way. As I approached, a chant started and I became part of a large circle of priestesses moving towards the center. Near the center of the mound when the circle was closer together, we did the pulsating star dance (one of the sacred dances from the event in Dingle), and then working even closer to the center of the mound, I was drawn into a very ancient dance step with a chant. Reaching the center, I knelt, heart completely open and dropped my forehead to the ground. I felt an immense exchange or downloading through the 3rd eye/brow chakra, as if I had been given information from the higher realms, that was now being passed into the realms below the earth. My presence had facilitated something for the beings in the other realms, as well as for myself.
From there, I returned to the transmission point between the trees and once again experienced the levitation and exchange of energy. This time, though, the trees were speaking to me in their language. It was beautiful and slow with eloquent, drawn out expressions. Tolkien must have been in tune with this realm when he wrote about the Ents of Middle Earth. Everything in nature around me seemed to be communicating. An owl hooted (odd in the daytime) and as I opened my eyes, a fox that had been watching me, scampered away.
I spent some time again at the Fairy Tree and then with the ancestors. I was remiss to leave and yet felt very complete. I had had some very powerful exchanges and somehow felt that much prophecy had been fulfilled. I had had almost exactly 24 hours at Tara and it dawned on me that I had been blessed with clear weather the entire time as well. As I gathered my things and headed down the road to hitch a ride towards Newgrange, the clouds rolled back in and the rain began to fall.
Part of Chapter 13: THE WICKLOW WAY
DAY 1: ....I had never experienced logging in action before. At first, I was extremely distressed over the harvesting of the timber, but then I realized that I could check in with the trees and see how they were reacting. Surprisingly, as I tuned into the energy of the trees, I had the distinct sense that they were O.K. with what was happening. They knew they had been planted for this purpose and the thinning out process was allowing the trees that were left standing to thrive and fill out to their potential. I have heard the song of trees before and as I stood and listened, I could make out the most beautiful song being sung by all of them. It was almost a cross between a dirge in meaning and a lullaby in sound to ease the process for those being cut. What a fascinating and unexpected end to the hike, as I dropped down out of the forest and made my way to the Knockree hostel.
DAY 3: ...I sat under the shelter in a state of bliss until the sun popped out again. I decided to walk up the river above the falls and find a rock to sit on. Pulling out my whistle, I closed my eyes, as I always do when I play, and let my fingers serenade me. I played for quite some time, enjoying the sun on my face and all of my favorite tunes. It was quite a surprise when I finally opened my eyes and realized there was someone watching me. A man about my age had wandered up and sat on a rock not too far away. He apparently was enjoying the music, the sun and the river as well.
We started talking and I ended up catching a lift down to town with him. His name was Joe, Joe from Wales I called him, and he drove a great old, revived Land Rover. He ferried it over a couple of times a year for short getaways from his routine. He liked to just drive around the countryside and see where he would end up. He was nice enough to drop me at the grocery store and then asked if I had any plans for the afternoon or might I enjoy a drive round the area. Seeing as I had no plans and my gut feeling about him felt good, I happily accepted and as a result got to see a lot of things that I otherwise never would have. We made a large circuit over the Wicklow Gap returning by way of Sally’s Gap. We even stopped by the large reservoir to the west and had a cup of tea. In true civilized British style, Joe from Wales pulled a kettle out of his camping gear, along with a burner, mugs and biscuits for the complete High Tea experience. Astounding. The universe is full of surprises.
DAY 5 (about 9 miles): It was Sunday, the 4th of July. This held little meaning for most everyone in the area, but for an American it was a day to honor independence. I chose to honor it in the most appropriate fashion I could – in a hostel miles away from civilization, with no power, phones, toilets or hot water. I was going to make my way to the Glenmalure Hostel on the Avonbeg River, one ridge over from Glendalough. It would be a straightforward hike up Mt. Mullacor and down the other side into Glenmalure. What I didn’t know was that I was in for the night of my life.
Just imagine a rustic, old, two-story, stone cottage built in the mid-1850s. The lower level has a kitchen and sitting room with a fire crackling softly in the wood stove. The room is lit only by candles and firelight… and the waning full moon rising through the front window, encircled by twinkling stars in a cloudless sky. In the room, sit four new friends, lovers of music all and a collection of instruments – bodhrains, guitar, mandolins, whistles… Around 10:30 p.m. the music starts, each one taking a turn at leading the others in song or playing a solo. The music is intermissioned with jokes, stories, laughter, a puff on a cigarette, and an occasional cup of tea or hot chocolate. And so the evening flows… timeless… joyous… the finest evening I had spent in Ireland. Indeed, the finest morning as well for the merry making went nigh on to 3:00 a.m.
I had experienced my first music session as a whistle player. I had never realized how much fun a “jam session” could be or how bonding the experience. I was able to appreciate the days before television and radios even more deeply and the long winter nights of entertainment among close communities in those times. I also had the strange experience of choosing to play the tune “Down by the Sally Gardens” first, only to learn of the bizarre link it had to this house afterwards. Supposedly, and I have not verified this, this house was owned by Maude Gunn at one time in its history. As rumor has it, W.B. Yeats wrote that song for her. How interesting that I felt compelled to play it first.
From Chapter 14: BACK TO DUBLIN
My final day in Ireland had arrived. I savored it slowly and leisurely. I wandered around the streets slowly, without an agenda. I found my way to the shopping district and St. Stephen’s Green. There were street performers out en masse providing wonderful diversions from harpists to mimes to acoustic guitarists. The most impressive was a stringed quartet of teenage girls well on their way to careers in the philharmonic it seemed; although from the money in the violin case, it might be more profitable for them to remain where they are. From there, I made my way back to the river and sat with a good book and a latte for a long while. From time to time, I would look up from my book and reflect on my journey.There had been so many new experiences on both physical and spiritual levels - most unexpected, all deeply transitional. I realized that my trip had been exactly the perfect length. On all levels of my being, I felt perfectly satisfied with it. I had nothing more that I was remiss to not see and didn’t feel either that I had lingered too long. As I made my way back to the hostel to get ready for a nice dinner out, I acknowledged that I was ready to head home. I also knew that I would be back again someday.